Diving Deep
by coolmarauders
Summary: A collection of drabbles about all sorts of characters: Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Tom Riddle, Pansy, and Cedric. Dving deep into their fears, their greatest moments, their longings, their memories, and their tragedies it peels away layers. By Prongs.
1. After

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Harry Potter. This is a drabble.

When I walk afterwards back my limbs are loose and floating. I creep into my cold, orderly bed. The sheets are cold. I shiver and think of what happened in his room. My body quakes even though we are no longer joined.

I think of his vibrant red hair and my wild brown hair clashing together in the heat. I want the heat back, to comfort me after we are done. I always want it.

My legs are so limp it feels like I am floating above it all. I fly into the moon trying to get the heat back. But the moon doesn't give it back. The stars shine coldly without mercy for me.

After, I feel so cold.


	2. Coarse

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Harry Potter. This is a Pansy/Harry drabble; I just thought of doing some weird thing like that.

I tremble when I think of him. His glass-green eyes always seem to be smiling at everyone but me. He hates me. He hates all of us.

People think I am coarse; that I go from boy to boy to boy. But it's not true. I silence them when they leave me. I make it sound like I left them. Isn't it better to leave than be left? Isn't it? I'm not sure.

While I am with Draco, I think of him. I wish that I could be with him. I wish he did not hate me.

I hope that someday he thinks of me the way I think of him.

But he won't.


	3. Jealousy

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Harry Potter.

A green monster had taken over Ron. It pervaded every inch of his body, seeping in through places he never thought things could get in from. It consumed him, making him do things he wouldn't normally do.

He snogged Lavender. She was anything like Hermione, but that was why Ron was doing it: to get away from Hermione. It was all her fault. She kissed Viktor Krum.

Now Hermione was angry too. She sent those yellow birds after Ron. They left his face red and dripping blood. Lavender giggled. She tried to look angry and succeeded only after the ordeal was over.

Jealousy had taken over Ron, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted it to go away.


	4. Alone

Disclaimer: I don't own Hermione. But Holly is my own creation.

Hermione's summers were lonely after her first year. She used to have a best friend, named Holly before she went to Hogwarts.

Holly was in a rage when Hermione came back.

"Why didn't you ever write me?" she spat. Her face was livid, and Hermione was already close to tears. She hadn't seen Holly for three minutes yet, and she was close to weeping.

"I-" Hermione started, but realized that she couldn't ever tell Holly why she didn't write to her. Holly wouldn't understand; she would think Hermione was crazy.

Holly stalked away, shaking with fury. She never came back.


	5. Powerful

Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Riddle. I wasn't sure what his wand was like, so I made one up.

Tom Riddle was wandering alone in Diagon Alley. He had refused the old man's-Professor Dumbledore's- offer to show him around. He worked alone.

It was no surprise, really. Tom had always known that he was different- special. Now it was just the time to prove it. He wondered how many other students spoke to snakes. He wondered how different he would be.

The last thing on his list. A wand. Tom went with an air of confidence into the shop called Ollivander's. An old man with eerie silver eyes came stumbling out. The fool tried hundreds of different wands, until; at last, he came upon one. His eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Tom gripped the wand tightly, his face eager. It was twelve and one-quarter inches, made from rowan, with a phoenix feather for the core. Bright green sparks flew out and it seemed to Tom that a halo of light descended around him.

He knew that there could be no other match for this wand.


	6. Wedding

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Harry Potter.

The white silky fabric billows around Hermione like a clean white sheet fluttering in the wind. She is glowing while the ladies- Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Fleur- bustle around her.

Today is her wedding day. Ron is waiting nervously with his brothers- what's left of them. His ears are on the verge of turning red but don't do so just yet.

Mrs. Weasley sighs and looks at her soon-to-be daughter-in-law with tears in her eyes. Fleur claps her hands excitedly and throws back her head for a laugh. Hermione stands there in shock. She looks beautiful. Her hair is neither bushy nor completely straight, but somewhere inbetween. It is put in romantically and simply. Her dress is simple, but with a long train and elegant embroidery. She has never looked like she does right now.

Ginny looks at her with diamond tears. They aren't for the same reason as her mother's.

Ginny cries because she will never get to marry the man she loved.


	7. Perfection

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter series.

Author's Note: Thank you to the one person who reviewed it-besides myself. Ahem. I know I have gotten hits, so could you please review? I would just like to know what you think of it. I'm not expecting you to gush over it or anything-just leave a little note.

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Everyone expects me to be perfect and I suppose to them, I look like it. But it's hard to be perfect. It's hard to keep up with everything and have a life at the same time. Look at Hermione Granger: she took every single optional class she could and pretty much cracked under the pressure. I heard of her through some of my friends; I had tried to take all of them too and ended up dropping only one class.

But it's worth all of it when I see the admiration in her eyes. She thinks I am perfect.

"Cedric Diggory," she teases. "You are the most perfect person in the school."

"Cho Chang," I say back. "You are perfect."

I am not joking.


	8. Wrappers

**Disclaimer:** Do I really have to? You all know that I am not J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Not counting AN and disclaimer, this is exactly 102 words. It was going to be 100, but I thought that I needed to add one more thing when I was editing it. !

* * *

He keeps every single wrapper that he is given. Not one is thrown away; not one is torn into pieces. No matter how much he feels like he just needs to hurt something, to kick something, to rip something, those wrappers are sacred. His grandmother gets on him for not throwing them away- she thinks that they are just rubbish. But they aren't to him. To him, they are his only memories of them- they are locked away while he is longing for someone to comfort him. And sometimes he feels like he is locked up too.

To Neville, wrappers are sacred.


	9. Infatuated

**Author's Note:** I do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to that. You know this; I know this; everyone knows this.

Another 100 words- exactly! Yay! Okay, this is about Gabrielle Delacour. And I am sorry if these get a bit repetitive; I hope you don't mind.

* * *

Ever since Harry Potter had saved her, she had become infatuated. She had her sister tell her stories of every conversation she and Harry had had; every single word he said she wanted to remember. She started reading every book she could lay her hands on that had any mention of The Boy Who Lived. There were millions of books; she would check out twenty books at a time from the library. Her parents noticed the jump in her reading habits and asked why she was reading so much.

She would shake her head and say simply, "It's him."


	10. Kisses

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Harry Potter.

**Author's Note: **Another drabble. How fun. This one is femmeslash and Patilcest, so you are warned.

* * *

How they longed to be together, every single day of the year. It was hard enough being in separate houses, but then they had different classes, different interests, different friends. Sometimes it seemed that the only thing that brought them together was their kisses at night, brown skin on identical brown skin, black hair mixing with black hair. Those heated, heartfelt kisses that were only placed in dark corners when the halls were empty, and in eerie places in the forest, places not-so-romantic as they would want it to be. But it was the best that they could do, given the circumstances of… of, well, everything. 


	11. Meetings

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing from Harry Potter.

**Author's Note: **Fluer/Cho

* * *

She caught my eye first, as someone who just might be friendly to a foreigner. She looked a foreigner as well, and that attracted me to her. I asked her permission to sit; she looked at me with surprise in her eyes.

"If you would like," she said politely, slightly arching one eyebrow. Though she oozed disbelief and slight hostility, I sat. She asked me my name.

"Fluer Delacour," I informed her.

"Cho Chang."

She gazed at me with a smile, all traces of suspicion gone. This girl, Cho Chang, was beautiful, I thought. She was welcoming, and talked in a sweet voice. I was attracted to her – to her beauty and to her kindness. Perhaps something would evolve from this attraction, something good.

"Merci," I said, half to myself.

"For what?" Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement.

"Letting me seet down."

"Your welcome."

Something good would happen, I was sure.


End file.
